Roswell Meets SG1
by a new girl
Summary: The Roswell aliens are out there, investigating hints of alien tech. What if they found it?
1. Chapter 1

**1. Chapter One**

Roswell/Stargate SG-1

Disclaimers: I do not own Roswell or Stargate SG-1. Just playing here, not making any money. Reviews are always appreciated.

After the events of their graduation, the Roswell teens went on the run, doing good in the world. As they traveled, they kept their ears open for news of alien activity, as well as government involvement with alien technology. They set themselves up as a traveling sideshow/carnival act, thus using their powers openly. Max played the role of a magician, levitating objects, creating flashes of light, and changing the color of people's hair. Maria performed on her guitar, with Isabel providing a light show. Liz set herself up as a palm reader, gathering information and warning people of future disaster and fortune. Kyle and Michael sold tickets and acted as crowd control. Spurred by rumors of a secret military project, they decided to set up camp at the base of Cheyenne Mountain.

"This is such a lame idea," complains Isabel. "Pretending to be a carnival? Why do we have to set ourselves up as freaks? Besides, what if someone recognizes us? The whole idea of being on the run is to run away, not chase after the people trying to kill us." She nervously twirled a lock of her hair, currently bright red and curly. "I say we shouldn't do it."

"Aww," Maria piped up, "you're just jealous that you're not center stage. Why don't you work with Max? Be his lovely assistant. Every magician needs his lovely assistant you know." She smirked at the look of disgust and dismay on the face of the beautiful alien teen.

"First of all," she replied, " the idea of a magician's assistant is so sexist. The man gets to do all the magic, and the woman is just eye candy. When people think of a magician's assistant, they think of some dumb bimbo with just enough brains to be able to smile and clap. And besides, I look trashy in sequins." The girls looked at each other and started laughing. Together, they walked over to the tent where Liz and Max were setting up the fortune-teller's booth.

This booth would be their most important attraction, not for the money it might bring in, but for the information Liz could gather. With any luck, enough air force officers would file through for Liz to verify any rumors of alien technology, and a hidden camera would help Iz do a little snooping around later on. If one or two of the officers happened to dream about a pretty girl from the sideshow, well, that's understandable, isn't it? The alien teens and their friends could spy on the base with little risk of being caught. Their only worry was the chance of being recognized.

Over at the fortune-teller's tent, Max and Liz were just finishing up. The tent itself looked rather drab and out of place for a carnival: a large, old, canvas affair that had clearly seen better days. Isabel wrinkled her nose as she took in the sight. "You'd better do something about that thing. We want to attract customers, not scare them away." Although the tent was large, it was worn, a drab green tent more suited to a family camping trip than a carnival sideshow.

Max grinned at his sister and placed his hand on the tent wall. A soft light swept over the fabric, erasing canvas, and, in its place, leaving glittery gold cloth. The tent shimmered in the afternoon sunlight. "I wanted to get it in place first," he said, "It's much easier this way." He frowned at his work for a minute. "Hmmm... It still needs something." He placed his hand once again on the tent, and a giant eye appeared across the front, framed by the words, "all knowing, all seeing." The effect was a bit over the top, but effective nonetheless. The teens looked at the gaudy display for a minute, then each drifted off to make their final preparations for the night's show.

**. . . **

"Oh, come on, Daniel, it'll be fun!" Col. Jack O'Neil said as he walked down the corridor. "Carnivals are a vanishing piece of American culture. I'd have thought you'd be up for something like that; you're always going on about customs and traditions. Why not try something a little closer to home for once?" He looked over at his friend, a slightly bookish young man. He rolled his eyes and continued, "What about you, Teal'c? You've been dying to see more of the U.S., and this is the perfect opportunity to experience a time-honored tradition. Plus, you could go without your hat and no one would give you a second glance."

The gigantic man O'Neil addressed thought it over. "This is indeed a strange tradition, Jack O'Neil. To see such illusion as the Goa'ould use, but as a form of entertainment is quite strange to me. It also seems highly barbaric to cut a woman in half and then attempt to reconnect the pieces. Do they use a sarcophagus as part of the ritual?" Teal'c, an alien Jaffa, was often confused by the bizarre traditions of his adopted home. "Could this be the work of a Goa'ould?"

O'Neil looked over at Teal'c, and smiled. "Don't worry so much, Teal'c, it's all just slight of hand, fooling the eye. Nothing is real. So how 'bout it? Cotton candy, magic, and fortune-telling?" He looked over at Daniel Jackson. "You too, Daniel. You need to get out and have some fun. You think too much." With that, the three friends, elite members of SG-1, continued on their way.

The carnival was bright and busy that night. Children ran around underfoot, laughing and playing, while military officers roamed around casually. While it was a small carnival, it seemed to be very popular. SG-1 took their time looking around, debating where to go first. "Well, campers," Jack said, "Magic show doesn't start for another 45 minutes; what should we do 'til then?" He looked around. "Not too many options; looks like it's music and dancing or the fortune teller. Guys?"

Teal'c spoke up. "I, for one, wish to see this fortune teller. On Chulak, such seers were held in high regard, if their predictions were known to be accurate. Of course, if they were found to be false, they faced a dire fate." With such a stoic face, the others couldn't decide whether he was joking or not.

"Well, I'm really not one for dancing," said Daniel, "so we might as well try the fortune teller. We'll probably just get the usual 'you will meet your true love soon, come into some money' kind of lame prediction. That's always the way it goes."

With a shrug, the group headed off in the direction of the fortune teller's tent. As they did, they passed a small group of people, all with stunned looks on their faces. "Hmm," mused Jack, "must be better than the usual." By the time they got to the tent, the line had mostly cleared out. After a few minutes' wait, they were beckoned into the tent.

"Welcome," said the fortune teller, "I am Lady Gracia, all knowing, all seeing. The charge is $10 per person. Who would like to go first?" Jack snorted to himself. This 'Lady Gracia' looked like a teenager, dressed up like some sort of gypsy. Clearly, this was an amateur carnival. He pushed Teal'c forward.

"I would like to know of my future," said Teal'c. "How do you accomplish your predictions?"

"I am a palm reader," she replied. "Please let me have whichever hand you use the most. That is the hand that will show your fate." She reached out and took Teal'c's right hand. Immediately she stiffened. "You are from a faraway place," she said in a shaky voice, "you have not seen your family in a long time. Do not worry, they are fine and you will see them again soon. There will be danger in your future, and much travel, but also many positive experiences." She fell back with a sigh. "I am sorry, but you have a powerful aura. It took me by surprise."

Teal'c nodded, satisfied with his prediction. The seer seemed to be a true one, however skeptical his teammates might be. The others also had their futures read, but none gave the fortune teller such a strong reaction. When they were done, they paid, and headed off towards the magic show. "That was a satisfactory experience, O'Neill. It seems that she truly has the gift of sight."

Jack snorted. "Oh, come on! 'From a faraway place'? You have a very clear accent! Of course she's going to say you're not from around here! And for cryin' out loud, me getting a promotion? What could they promote me to? A desk job? Not gonna happen. At least she got Daniel dead to rights, with him being fragile and prone to injuries, but she could probably tell just by looking."

"Not to mention the fact that predicting the future is a scientific impossibility," added Major Carter, "No one has the ability to see what will happen. If they did, they'd be out at the racetrack, not sitting in a tent. Besides, it's just for fun; no one takes this stuff seriously."

Teal'c just sighed. While he would usually have doubted the veracity of the fortune teller, something in her eyes had convinced him that she was telling the truth.


	2. Chapter 2

**2. chapter 2**

Life on the run from government alien hunters was filled with danger, excitement, and, sometimes, totally crazy ideas. Using alien powers to pretend to be magicians had to be in the top ten. Still, what better way to hide? Max was lost in his thoughts as he performed his routine for the night: juggling without hands, levitating both himself and an audience volunteer. He finished with a brilliant escape trick from a locked and nailed down crate, simply melting and re-forming the bottom. Even his audience assistants, both military, couldn't figure it out.

After his show, Max went to see how Liz's information gathering session was going. He found her just finishing up with the last of her customers. A few minutes later, he joined her in her tent.

"So, how did it go? Find out anything interesting?" he asked, taking a seat.

Liz looked at her husband with concern in her eyes. "I keep seeing the same image over and over again from the Air Force personnel," she replied, wiping her eyes. "There is a huge stone ring, with symbols carved all around it. Then, it starts to spin, and something like blue water rushes out of it and then back in. I saw that a lot, plus a few flashes of people with gold eyes, those were very dangerous. It was definitely alien, but I couldn't see if it was related to anything on Antar. I got the sense that we need to see this for ourselves, but I don't know how. It is really dangerous."

"Do you remember when you guys were rescuing me from the White Room?" he asked. "And how Nascedo had Michael change to look like that one agent?"

Liz nodded, silently.

"Well if we could do that here, quietly grab someone from the mountain and keep them for a while, I could change into them and look around the base really quickly."

"I don't really like the idea, but I think it might be necessary. If they really do have alien technology, something could go horribly wrong. They may have no idea what they're messing with. And if the technology is from Antar..." She trailed off. They had seen how powerful Antar technology was. The military could easily cause a catastrophe if they fooled around with the wrong thing.

"I promise I'll be careful. I just need to make sure that I get in and out without being questioned. I might be able to look and sound like someone else, but I don't know much about the military." Max sighed. "I'll see if Isabelle would be willing to lure off one of the lower-ranking officers. I don't think I could pull off an officer."

Liz nodded. "I'll point out one that was connected with the project."

The pair went off in search of Isabelle, who had completed her night's work on the light show, and quickly explained their idea.

"Are you nuts?" she exclaimed. "Do you really want to blow our cover like that? Snooping on their futures is one thing, but go down into a classified military facility and you might not get out again. It's too dangerous!"

Max looked his sister in the eye. "I think it's worth the risk. Liz saw that most of the Air Force people here are working for a secret project involving alien technology. I want to get a closer look to make sure that it's not something that's going to come back to bite us."

Isabelle considered it, then nodded. "All right, what do you need me to do?"

Liz took her arm, and pointed discretely at a young officer on the outskirts of the camp. "He's in the project. A lieutenant, not very high ranking, not very social. He'd be perfect. He seems like a loner, so no one should notice him being gone for a little while or wonder too much at any differences in his personality."

Isabelle looked over at him and smiled. She adjusted her dress just a little bit lower. "Leave it to me then. Give me five minutes, then come to get him." She strode off, somehow managing to look confident and coy at the same time.

"Hello, fly boy, what's your name?" she asked the nervous-looking young man.

"Um, I'm Nick...Uh..Lt. Nick Stevens." he stammered.

"Well, you can just call me Lucy. So, tell me, lieutenant, what's a girl gotta do to have some fun around here?" She led him off into the trees.

"Uh, um, well, I don't know, this carnival seems kind of fun." He froze, with a deer in the headlights look.

Isabelle took advantage of his hesitation, stepping close for a kiss. As their lips met, she passed her hand over his forehead, leaving behind a line of green light. "Sleep now," she whispered. "You look tired."

The lieutenant nodded, yawning. She helped ease him down onto the grass. Anyone happening to see the scene would not take much notice. A few minutes later, Max and Liz joined her.

"Well, it's about time," Isabelle grumbled. "Shy boy here is not exactly the most brilliant conversationalist ever. I planted a suggestion for him to go to sleep. It should last a full night, so whatever you have planned, you'd better do it right after we close."

"Thanks, Is. You did great." Max smiled as he picked up their unwilling 'guest.' He quickly carried him to their van, parked in the shadows on the edge of the carnival.

Around 2 AM, the lights of the carnival finally flickered and faded. The evening had gone off without a hitch, despite the largely military nature of the crowd. The crew began pulling down the tents and packing up, preparing, as always, for a quick getaway. This time, the most pressing issue was the lieutenant stashed away under the seats of the main van. They needed to replace him before he was missed. It would be their one shot at sneaking into the base. If they failed, the base would, no doubt, be locked down tight. Michael and Kyle were NOT happy with the plan, but grudgingly agreed that it was for the best.

Working quickly, the carnival was disassembled and stored away. Thanks to the aliens' powers, all materials were compacted and easily fit into the van. If all went as planned, the van itself would be given a makeover just outside of town, out of sight of any possible witnesses. If necessary, they would change their own looks for a while as well.

Max had donned the lieutenant's uniform, and stood adjusting it. In a pocket, he found keys that matched the last car left in the lot, a small sedan. Taking a deep breath, he passed his hand over his face and his features blurred. In seconds, he became the spitting image of the prisoner. The only thing off was a slight height difference, but that was beyond him to alter. He just hoped no one would notice.

"So, Maxwell, are you ready to start this foolishness?" Michael asked.

"I think so," Max replied, adjusting the uniform.

"I think they might notice your voice is different, though. That would be a big clue." Michael smirked at him.

"Oops. Can't forget that, now, can I?" He looked down at his hands. "I'd better fix my fingerprints as well." He stepped into the van to make a comparison. After a minute, he returned. "There, is that better?" His voice was a bit higher, slightly squeaky.

"Not too bad, Maxwell, not too bad. You just might make it through. Hopefully, at this time of night no one will be paying close attention."

Isabelle, Kyle, Liz and Maria approached the pair. Liz stepped up to her husband.

"You be careful," she whispered, leaning in to kiss him.

"Don't worry. I'll be fine," he replied. "You stay in contact and I'll let you know if anything goes wrong. If it goes south, you guys clear out of here. I don't want to risk you."

"But..." Liz tried to protest.

"No buts." he looked at her seriously. "This is a full military base, one that does deal with alien technology. If I get caught, they'll go on the alert. Better to clear out and let me try and get out on my own. Promise me?"

She looked deep into his eyes. "I promise. But you'd better come back or I will be very annoyed with you."

Max laughed and stepped back. "Remember everybody, be ready to roll out if I give the signal. Don't forget to modify the van."

With that, Max stepped into the Lieutenant's car and drove off towards the base.


	3. Chapter 3

**3. Chapter 3**

Breaking into a military base at night was far simpler than it sounded. Even the military had their down times, and tired people often are forgetful and unobservant. For Max, the empty corridors meant less chance of suspicion and fewer opportunities to be discovered. Still, he tried to remain nonchalant as he strolled into the compound. Fortunately, the base was well laid out, and straightforward. The information that Liz had pulled out of the soldiers' heads was proving invaluable as he made his way to the elevators down. From there, he simply went down as far as the elevators would take him.

Although he had initially been worried that being on a military base would bring back painful memories of the white room, Max focused all of his attention instead on remaining in character. What little he knew about military behavior would not stand up to any kind of scrutiny. He needed to remain invisible and unnoticeable in order to make it out safely.

The SGC, despite being an ultra-secret military base, seemed very dull and business –like. So far, Max had seen a vast array of corridors, several offices, and a rec center. There were no convenient maps to be seen, but he supposed that would make sense; after all, there was no point in giving up any advantage in the event of an intrusion. Closing his eyes, Max reached out with his mind, looking for any trace of alien energy. He was so totally focused on his search that he pay attention to where he was going, and bumped into an older, gray-haired man wearing more casual clothes.

Max straightened up. "Sorry, sir," he said apologetically, "I wasn't looking where I was going." He didn't salute, as he just KNEW he would get it wrong. The other man just grinned.

"Son, I think you need to go and get some sleep. You look like you were out on your feet." O'Neill leaned casually against the wall, and smirked.

"Yes, sir. Sorry sir." Max turned and hurried down the hall.

Behind him, Jack stared thoughtfully. The young lieutenant had seemed a bit off. Granted, no one was at their best around midnight. He ought to know; Daniel had dragged them all back to the base after the fair, hotly debating the possibilities of fortune telling with Teal'C and Sam. No doubt Daniel had some record written down somewhere on a rock telling the outcome of the next Superbowl. Sam, of course, had been spouting off on the scientific impossibility of ESP, despite the sometimes amazing abilities that their allies had shown. He smiled fondly at the thought of his team. For all their bickering, or perhaps because of it, they were more like family than co-workers to him.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Max sighed silently in relief. He had thought for certain that the man, probably a high-ranking officer, would see through his act. He resolved to be more careful in the future. Resolutely, he turned in the direction that he had felt a strange energy surge coming from. It was the best clue he'd had so far, and he needed to hurry.

After a series of wrong turns, Max found himself in front of a guarded door. The feelings that he'd had were coming strongly from the room beyond. Despite the guard, he knew that this was the best chance he would get to figure out what the base was hiding. He decided to attempt a straightforward approach.

Max walked up to the door purposefully, hoping that the guard would simply let him pass by. Unfortunately, he had no such luck.

The guard came to attention. "Sorry sir, but there are no off-world missions scheduled tonight. Gate Room access is restricted to authorized personnel only. Please state your business here." The guard, unlike the ones at the entrance checkpoints, was very much awake.

Thinking fast Max searched for an excuse. "That's all right. I just dropped something when I was in there last, and I was hoping I could go in and look for it. I would only be a minute." He stepped closer.

The airman tensed further. "Sorry, sir, but orders are orders. Better luck next time. "

"Too bad," he sighed. "Oh well. " He made as if to turn away, then shot out a hand and grabbed the guard by the arm. Before he could move, Max sent an energy pulse through him, knocking him out. As the man slumped to the side, Max reached for the door. "I seriously hope that whoever is watching the cameras tonight is asleep," he muttered.

* * * * *

The evening had been an unusually peaceful one for General George Hammond. He had taken time off earlier in the evening to take his granddaughters to the fair, for once putting off the copious amounts of paperwork that his job entailed. He shook his head with a rueful smile. If he wasn't careful, he would start turning into his boyish 2IC, and start carrying around a Gameboy. Speaking of which…he contemplated the Colonel, who was currently lounging in his office, presumably putting off his own paperwork. The two had just begun a more detailed briefing of an upcoming trading mission, when a familiar siren rang out, and red lights started flashing.

"Intruder alert," came the voice of Walter Harriman, "Intruder in the gate room."

Hammond picked up the phone. "Sergeant, what is the situation? How many intruders?" He nodded, and turned on a computer screen. "Send a squad. Subdue the man; I want him for questioning."

Colonel O'Neill stood. "Sir?"

Hammond nodded. "One intruder in the Gate Room, Colonel. Apparently, Lt. Stevens knocked out the door guard by touching him, and is now touching the gate, just standing there with his eyes closed."

Raising an eyebrow in a conscious imitation of Teal'C, Jack snorted. "Stevens? He was acting strange earlier. Do you think it could be a foothold situation, sir?"

"I can't rule out that possibility. Until we have him in custody for interrogation, we won't know for sure. So far, though, he's only knocked out the guard; no one has been seriously hurt."

"Permission to help detain our intruder?"

"Permission granted."

* * *

In the Gate Room, Max was staring up at the Stargate in awe. When Liz had said there was alien technology at the base, he had never contemplated anything quite on this scale. The ring was made of a silver metal, quite unlike the metals from Antar, and covered in unfamiliar symbols. It was looking like there were even more aliens at work on the Earth.

Despite his disappointment, Max was still impressed by the scale of the ring. He couldn't resist the urge to touch it, but as soon as he did, images began to flood his mind, going by far too fast to comprehend more than the barest minimum. The one impression that was clear, was that this ring transported people to different worlds, and had a bloody history.

Suddenly, he was pulled out of his trance by a regrettably familiar sound: the cocking of a gun. Shaking his head to clear the images, he found himself face to face with a familiar gray-haired man.

"Hi, how ya doin'?" the man asked, pointing a gun at his chest. "Now, don't make any sudden moves, and I won't have to shoot you. Mind telling me what you're up to?"

Looking around, Max saw that he was ringed by armed guards, all pointing weapons at him. He had been so stupidly focused on the ring that he hadn't even noticed their approach. Slowly, he lifted his hands. Then, when the man relaxed almost imperceptibly, he sent out a pulse of energy from his hands, using his shield to knock the guards away. Then he sprinted for the door.

Hearing soft cursing from behind him, Max tore out the exit as quickly as he could. He had to get out of sight so that he could change his face and clothes. With a bit of misdirection, he might be able to get away. However, the pounding feet behind him hinted that might not be possible.

Suddenly, a bullet tore into the wall just past his shoulder. "Stop," he heard a voice call out. "I will shoot you if I have to."

Turning around, Max contemplated the man who had so quickly managed to shake off the effects of being thrown around the room by his energy pulse. He raised his hands slowly.

"Aht! None of that," the man commanded. "Hands behind your head. I don't wanna get thrown around again."

Max ignored the instruction, and gestured. The older man dodged a green blast, firing as he did. Despite the exhaustion from having used his powers so much that day, Max was able to quickly put up a shield. The bullet struck the barrier right in front of his face, bending it until it almost touched him.

Suddenly, a younger man rounded the corner, nose buried in a book. "Oh, hey Jack," he said, "is there an invasion?"

The older man, Jack, snapped, "Danny! Take cover!"

Unfortunately the warning came too late. The bullet, having its forward momentum stopped abruptly, launched itself in the other direction like a slingshot, striking the young man in the chest.

Max slumped, exhausted. Jack continued to point his gun at him, but now half of his attention was focused on his friend.

"Stay with me, Daniel, we'll have the medics here soon." He turned to Max. "You don't move. I will shoot you." Meanwhile, Daniel started to gasp. Jack applied pressure with one hand. "Come on, don't you die on me. Hey, I said don't move!" he snapped at Max.

Max moved forward, shaken. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone. Please believe me. I just needed to see your gate room. Let me help." He froze at the unwavering gun.

"Help? What can you do to help?" Jack kept the gun steadily pointed at the younger man's face.

"I can heal him. Please, let me try. I didn't want to hurt anyone. You said his name is Daniel?" Max moved forward.

"That's right, and if you really were Lt. Stevens, you'd know that. When this is all over with, you and I are going to have a little CHAT. You say you can help him?" On the floor, Daniel started to gasp. At Max's nod, Jack waved him forward. "All right, kid, but if he dies…"

Max put his hand over the wound, calling up the remains of his energy. "Daniel," he called, "stay with us." His hand began to glow, and images floated across his mind. Images of strange landscapes, fighting, and, oddly enough, pyramids. Daniel's breathing began to slowly calm, while Max's became more ragged. Finally, it was done, and Max slumped, unconscious.

Cliffhanger! Aren't I evil? My muse came back for a visit, and I think she's not finished! More soon!


	4. Chapter 4

**4. Chapter 4**

Colonel O'Neill was having a very bad day. Oh, it had started out all right; he'd avoided his paperwork, gotten in a little R&R in with his team, and then, just when everything seemed peaceful, everything had gone all to hell. First, there was the possible foothold situation. Granted, that seemed to be a typical Friday night around these parts, but then Daniel just HAD to step into the middle of it. You'd think that after all this time, the geek would have more sense than to wander around with his nose buried in a book, but NO, he just had to walk into the middle of a shootout and get hit. What was really galling was that it was Jack's own bullet that had gotten his favorite geek, albeit repelled back from some strange energy shield. For a few minutes there, it had seemed like SG-1 would lose one of its own. Luckily the alien intruder had turned out to have wacky alien powers or Daniel would have almost certainly ended up in the morgue, undoubtedly soon followed by the alien. No one hurt one of Jack's team without consequences.

As it was, they had all ended up in the infirmary after all. Daniel was being subjected to many large needles and undoubtedly painful tests, all trying to discover what had happened to him, and what was causing the silver handprint on his chest. Lt. Stevens, or the alien posing as Lt. Stevens, was in the next bed over, unconscious and restrained. Guards were posted nearby, just in case. Jack was on his guard, ready to interrogate the man as soon as he regained consciousness. A low groan told Jack that he wouldn't have to wait much longer. Slowly, the prisoner opened his eyes, blinking in the bright light.

"So," Jack began, "I am Col. Jack O'Neill. Who are you? I mean, you look like Lt. Stevens, but you obviously aren't human. Why'd you break into the gate room?"

Sleepy eyes blinked at him. "I have no idea what you mean," came the sleepily-mumbled reply. "I was just walking around. I wasn't looking to hurt anyone."

Janet walked over and handed Jack a file, whispering in his ear. He raised an eyebrow, and flipped through the report. "Well, would you look at that. You're definitely not human; no human has blood like that. And since everyone here gets blood tests far more often than necessary," he mock-glared at the doctor, "either you are pretending to be Lt. Stevens, or you really are him and just got into something alien that changed you. Mind telling me which one it is? I have to tell you, the only reason you're here and not in the brig is that you didn't really TRY to hurt anyone. You saved Danny's life when you fixed that gunshot, so I'm giving you a chance to explain yourself."

* * * *

On the bed, Max sighed. His energy levels were far below normal, and there was no chance of fighting his way out through the whole base. The fact that he'd woken up in a medical facility, not drugged or behind bars, put this place a step above Agent Pierce and his goons. "I really didn't mean any harm. I had heard rumors of the alien technology in this place and needed to investigate. I wanted to know if any had come from my planet. I would have just taken a look and left, but the guard tried to stop me. I didn't think I'd get another chance. Is your friend all right?"

The Colonel nodded. "Yes he is, despite the shiny silver handprint on his chest .When will that go away? Is it going to do anything funky to him?"

Max winced. That handprint was a definite link back to his family, if word got out to the wrong people. "It will go away soon, it is just a side effect of the healing. As for funky side effects, well, um, in a few years he might develop some telekinesis, or maybe telepathy. Everyone's different. It shouldn't be a big deal." He picked at the sheet under his bound hand. "Hey, could you let me out of these cuffs? They are kind of uncomfortable."

The Colonel snorted. "Yeah, sure, youtbetcha. Maybe after you tell me who you really are, and what happened to Lt. Stevens." He crossed his arms.

Looking earnestly at his captor, Max tried to project sincerity. "He's alright. I just put him to sleep for a while, and left him tied up. He should be able to get out of it sometime this morning, um, is it still nighttime?" At the Colonel's nod, he continued. "Yeah, he'll be alright. I didn't hurt him."

"Uh, huh. And how come you look like him? Don't tell me you're a clone?" At Max's almost imperceptible wince, he raised an eyebrow. "Really? You mean you really ARE an alien clone? Bet that's freaky."

"I'm not a clone!" At Jack's look of disbelief, he quickly amended, "Ok, so I am a clone, I'm just not HIS clone. I just kind of copied his face for a while. I just needed to make sure that I could get into the base without being noticed, so I left him asleep where he wouldn't be found very soon. If the alarm hadn't sounded, I would have been in, out and on my way without anyone ever noticing." He sighed and lay back, tugging slightly on the straps. Sure, he could melt the bed under him, make enough room to pull his hands out, but what then? Try and get past the armed guards?

Jack interrupted his musings. "So what's your name? And if you just copied the Lt.'s face, what do you really look like? If you cooperate, maybe we can help each other. We are always looking for new allies here. "

"I don't really want to be experimented on, thank you very much. If you want me to show you what I look like, you will need to let me out of these straps." Max gathered his strength and sent an urgent message to Liz through their link. He quickly detailed the situation.

" We're not going to experiment on you! Geeze, I thought it was supposed to be the other way around. Anyway, you need to give us back the real Lt. Stevens, cause holding a hostage is not the best way to get anything out of the Air Force." He reached forward and undid the strap holding down one arm. "No funny business now," he warned.

"Of course not." Max reached up, his hand glowing green. He passed his hand over his face, the skin rippling as it passed over, features blurring…

TBC…


	5. Chapter 5

Colonel Jack O'Neill, with two l's thank you very much, could never be accused of being a patient man. His subordinates knew this very well, and all made sure that if there was any waiting to be done, there would be SOMETHING on hand to occupy him. However, when it came to interrogation, there was not much on hand for him to amuse himself with. Not unless he wanted to remove any credibility he still had with his prisoner, that is to say. Still, he managed to control himself as he watched his prisoner, apparently a shape-shifting alien who had stolen away an airman and hurt one of HIS teammates. The fact that he had also healed him afterward was the only reason Jack had been able to contain himself thus far.

While waiting was difficult, at least he had a good show to watch, as 'Lt. Stevens'' face glowed and changed. What he did not expect to see emerging was the face of the young carnie his team had watched mere hours before.

"You? But, you're just a kid! That was some act at the carnival." Jack crossed his arms. "But that wasn't an act, now, was it? That was all you."

The young man sighed and rubbed his wrists where the straps had chafed. "Yes, it was," he replied, and then frowned. He placed his hand over his throat, fingers briefly glowing. "There, much better. That felt weird."

"Well, kid, what's your name? Fair's fair, I told you mine, now you tell me yours. Who are you?" Jack was naturally suspicious, after all, while alien invasions and infiltrations were quite commonplace, they almost never ended well. Helping Daniel was a mark in his favor, but there was still the issue of the missing airman to consider. "Where'd you stash Lt. Stevens?"

Looking down at the sheets, he replied, "My name is Zan. Your Lieutenant is fine; he's just taking a little nap out in the woods. He's not hurt and won't be.

Jack smirked. "So, _Zan_, you just heard we had some technology and decided to crash the party? What did you think you were going to do with the Gate when you found it? Cause from where I was standing, you looked kind of out of it, like you were trying to do some strange Vulcan mind-meld with it. How'd that work out for ya?" The Colonel took a moment to enjoy the flustered and embarrassed look on his prisoner's face. So far, this interrogation had been one of the easiest he'd ever had. The kid just didn't hide his emotions all that well.

'Zan' slumped a little, blushing. "I didn't mean to do that! I had never seen anything like the…what did you call it again? Gate? before, and I wanted to check it out. I thought if I got closer I might recognize some of the symbols. When I touched it, it just sort of pulled me in. It was really strange; it showed me a bunch of pictures of people in Egyptian skirts with animal heads." He tilted his head a little. "You wouldn't happen to know what that was, would you? I've never seen anything like it."

Sudden footsteps startled the pair and they looked over to see Daniel, still dressed in the ubiquitous hospital gown. "You've never seen a Gate before?" he asked, "But they are all over the galaxy. Most planets seeded by the Goa'ould have a Gate. If you are an alien advanced enough to make it to Earth, then how could you not have heard of the Gates?"

Jack smiled at his enthusiastic archaeologist. His enthusiasm was catching, even if his inquisitive nature often got him into tight spots. "Well, Danny-boy, Janet did say that he wasn't human. And our Gate has been under lock and key for decades, so there's no way that he could have gotten through here." He turned to 'Zan.' "Do you by any chance have a spaceship hidden away somewhere?"

The young man began to blush. "Um, well…no, not anymore. It went back home without me." He fiddled with his bed sheets.

"Uh, huh. So, you're stranded here. Were you looking for a way home? Cause that might be a bit difficult, since we can only really go to where there's another Stargate, and if your people don't have one…"

"No!" 'Zan' shouted, and then looked embarrassed. He continued in a more normal tone of voice "I mean, no, thank you. I don't want to go back. There was a war, and I got sent away. Well, truthfully, just the DNA, some memories, and a personality got sent away, then they kind of crossed that with a human and made me. They were kind of hoping to re-create their king, who had been killed, but that was over half a century ago. The war's long over, and we lost. Having me go back now wouldn't change anything." He closed his eyes, looking sad. "They keep sending assassins after me, so when I heard that you had some alien technology here, I was worried that it might be part of another of their plots. I just wanted to check and make sure that nothing dangerous had fallen into the wrong hands."

"Maybe if you told us more about the people you are running from, we might be able to help." Daniel, always the peacemaker, offered.

"Well," 'Zan' replied, looking thoughtful. "They are called Skins. I don't think that's their name for themselves; it's just the name that they are called here. They can't live on the Earth without help; the air is poisonous to them. So, they wear a kind of skin-suit. It makes them look just like a human, but they are constantly shedding their skin, kind of like a permanent, full-body sunburn. The only way I ever know they are around is when I start finding large pieces of skin lying around. They are really strong, too, and one of the only ways I've found to stop them is to hit them hard on a spot on their lower backs, where the seal to the suit is- break it and they get exposed to the air and die. They have no problem killing people who get in their way." He shuddered.

"Well, kid, I can definitely say there are none of those around here. Everyone gets frequent medical tests, LOTS of tests, involving lots of needles. Most of which you've experienced." Jack scowled, remembering his own times suffering at the hands of the torturing wench formally called Dr. Janet Frasier. "I can honestly say I've never seen or heard of these aliens of yours. Daniel, you're the book geek. Do you know anything?"

Daniel's face lit up, presumably at the thought of new research. "No, I haven't. Unless…there are Native American legends of spirits taking on human form, and stories of shape shifters abound in every culture. I wonder if that could be a reference to these 'Skins?'" He stared thoughtfully into space. "Of course, the abilities that you have shown are remarkably like the Goa'ould- healing and shielding. They didn't find any devices on you though, did they? And the energy was green, not white, like the hand devices. How did you do that?"

The young man hesitated, clearly reluctant to speak. "That's a natural ability. I can manipulate the energy my body produces in different ways. When humans evolve to use more of their brain, then they will be able to do similar things. You only use about 10% of your brain. The other part of your brain contains abilities that you term 'ESP.' Most can't tap into that part." He looked nervously at Daniel. "When I healed you, I gave you some of my energy, which caused your cells to heal faster. But because you were close to dying, it will have a few side effects. It will eventually give you greater access to that part of your brain that you don't use. You will end up with abilities similar to mine…"

Jack interrupted, "You mean Daniel is going to be able to make energy shields and throw people around with his mind? Sweet!"

Glaring at Jack, Daniel responded. "Well, seeing as how I'm usually the one to get shot or kidnapped, that might be helpful." He relaxed, sitting down on a nearby chair. "If you are a war refugee, then maybe you could work with us? Your abilities would be helpful. At the very least, we could help you settle in and build a new life here."

"Depending on whether or not Lt. Stevens comes back in one piece," Jack added. "We come across a lot of aliens in some of the strangest places. Like I said, we're the good guys. We don't experiment on anyone. And if there are people after you, this might be the safest place for you. You and your friends, I'm going to assume that the people with you in the carnival are also aliens?"

"No, they're not," 'Zan' lied, unconvincingly. When his interrogators just looked at him, he flushed and fidgeted. "Well, mostly not. A lot of them are people like Daniel- I healed them and they got powers. When I started traveling, they came with me. They are my family. I would do ANYTHING to protect them," he finished, challengingly.

Jack just nodded. "Family's important. If they would like a place, I'm sure we could arrange something. I will have to clear it with the General, but if you prove trustworthy, then I'm sure that we will be able to let you go." He paused. "But wait a minute! How the heck did you know about us in the first place? Do we have a leak?"

The boy just laughed. "No, you don't. The fortune teller really IS a fortune teller. She can tell your future through touch, and she saw what looked like alien technology when you guys got your fortunes read. If she gave you any warnings, things to do or to avoid doing, please listen to her. She's very accurate."

"Yeah, sure, you betcha." The Colonel was about to continue when he was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Come in!" he called.

An airman entered, bearing a tray. "Sorry to interrupt, sir, but I was sent around with breakfast for you and the prisoner." He set the tray down on a small table, saluted, and turned to leave.

"Ah, breakfast," Jack commented, rubbing his hands together. "It has been a long night. Let's see what we have here." He lifted the lid. "Ah, bacon and eggs, toast, and three bowls of blue Jell-o! They remembered!"

Daniel snorted. "Let's face it, Jack, all the kitchen staff knows about your Jell-o obsession." He turned to their prisoner/guest. "For Jack, the most important part of any meal is the Jell-o. Guard yours well, for he is known worldwide as a Jell-o thief. If you don't get to it quickly, it vanishes."

Grumbling and muttering good-naturedly under his breath about annoying archaeologists, Jack grabbed his dish of Jell-o and dug in. He noted that his guest had also chosen the blue Jell-o. Nothing like blue Jell-o after a hard day, he mused. Then, the boy did something that would forever after make him cringe at the memory: he poured the bottle of Tabasco sauce all over it.

Taking a large bite, the young man smiled. "There's nothing like a nice bowl of blue Jell-o," he mumbled around the mouthful.

Jack could only look on in horror.

I managed to disgust Jack with Jell-o! Remembering the Roswell aliens' obsession with Tabasco sauce, I just had to.

More will be coming soon. Please leave a review if you like, they inspire me!


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